All By Myself
by goofygal89
Summary: Lily has always been one to do things by herself. Does she really need somebody to help her live an actual life? She thinks no, but is she right? chapter two is up!
1. Chapter one my negative mind and all the

Okay, I decided to do something a bit different with my story. What I am posting right now is the first chapter to a completely different story that I am writing, but with a few edits to make it Lily Evans' story. So please review and tell me which chapter you like better as a beginning and I will keep that one. If I get no reviews on this I am pulling the plug on this story. Hope ya like!

All By Myself

My Negative Mind and a ll the things that made it start....

The sky is a dark grey color this morning as I rise from my bed with a frown on my face and high anxiety. I push off my green satin comforter that is tangled at my feet, and I topple right off the bed and on to the hard cement floor. This is going to be a terrible morning. In an attempt to make my situation of lying on the ground with my comforter wrapped around me a little better, I decide to make myself halfway presentable. I run my hand through my tangled, slit-ended red hair but it doesn't work. My hand gets stuck in my hair causing me to yank a hundred hairs out in the process. Talk about pain.

After tearing my hand from my hair, bringing tears to my eyes, I untangle myself from my comforter and drag myself across the floor, to the closet. My closet always make me feel somewhat better, because it is plastered with pictures of my friends and my owl Rufus, who is currently asleep on my bed post. It is also covered with glow-in -the-dark-stars. The only bad thing about my closet are the things inside: my clothes. I hate finding outfits in the morning, especially on the first day of school. I rarely find an exact fit. Unfortunately, once I do, I always spill something on it in the end. Then I have to choose two outfits when I first wake-up, just in case. Life sucks.

After starring at my closet door forever, trying to make my morning seem fabulous and avoid the inevitable, I open the closet door. It's too bad that when my parents left two days ago I had "cleaned" my room. Translation: stuffed every single thing into the closet and forced the doors shut. Torrents of clothes, shoes, and books come pouring out all over the place as I scream and run for cover. It is to no prevail. I am trapped underneath my clothes. . . Sort of. I can still see, but nothing but my feelings are hurt when I observe the horrible mess that I have made.

Exhausted, I look at my clothes on the ground and scan through all of them. _"Ugly!. . .Makes my butt look big,. . . No! Eww!. . . Grandma bought it, enough said. . . Out of style. . . Maybe. . ."_ I find the leg of a pair of green cargo pants and(I also choose some Big Star Jeans just in case.), a whit tank top with black stitching on it (I also grad a black tank top with lace on it.), and see through black jacket from Miss Sixty. It looks horrible on me. Whatever. Same thing as every other day. Nothing in my closet ever seems to fit. Even though I love to shop, it seems as though nothing in the stores seems to fir me either. I am a hopeless case when it comes to clothes.

After selecting my outfit, I put on a pair of shorts and my scarlet Oxford T- shirt in order to get ready for my morning jog. My jog will definitely prepare my for the brutal day to come. I trudge into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my hair; since running my hand through it obviously didn't work. As I look up into the mirror, I finch in disgust. I hate looking in mirrors. My eyes, this morning are slightly red. Since they are naturally green , it looks as if I am trying to celebrate Christmas early. My skin's ivory color is blotched with pink in some unseemly places which makes me flinch even more. My lips well I can't really do anything about those. Not until I leave the house, that is. They are so abnormally small; I don't know what to do with them. I am wasting my time though. I need to go on my run before it is too late and the sun is fully out. I hate when I have to run after the sun has risen, because that means that my fellow British citizens have already entered the rest of the world and will interfere with my isolated one.

I wish that I still did track, but that is an old part of my life now. The coach was brutal and didn't think that I had a life besides running. There are things that I want to accomplish in my life other than running seven miles a day. Anyway. . . I go outside to face the dark sky and the wet grass. As I walk across the mud, some of the water sprays on my legs, causing me to grit my teeth in frustration. Great, another thing to make my body look even more hideous than it already is.

I wipe the water residue off my legs and begin to slowly jog to the sidewalk. When I reach the street I look forward expectantly to the sliver of sun that has risen., turn on my Warlocks Deranged CD and I begin my three mile run. The melody of "If You To Jinx It!" blasts in my ears as I pound my way down the black cement. I do this every morning with the expectation that somehow this run will clear my mind and the meaning of life will suddenly come to me. It doesn't. Same life. Same meaning. I don't have a life, I have no meaning. It does relax me to some extent though. I'm not nearly as uptight right now, if you can't tell, as I was when I first woke up this morning. That is so horrid. I just noticed the fact that when I run my thighs hit against each other. What a strange thing to notice when I am so deep in thought about what the meaning of life is, and then suddenly here I am trying to think of ways to change how my upper legs appear. I know I can do nothing about it, but I guess it is just another imperfection for me to look at and loath upon myself.

I keep running through North London and look at the different shops with illegal oriental salesmen and women who are pulling out their fake purses , sunglasses and such. Why are the so happy. They have no life. Their meaning is to sell something that isn't even theirs and is fake as well. I have to admit I am even worse than they, because I am one of the people that keep them in business. I guess as long as they are happy, I should not judge them. They have meaning more then I. One mile down.

After I finish passing through the rattling sales force of North London I pass through Little Italy, as I like to calls it. Little Italy is much different. The smells of foods surrounds me as I pass each individual restaurants in which men and women are setting up menus and tables in the front in order to attract the many tourists who are always in this area. The people who run these restaurants must not be thin. It would be impossible as far as I am concerned. You could not cook Italian food all day and not be a little bit overweight. (Not obese.) Maybe I should stay in Little Italy more often if I am ever feeling bad about myself. Two miles down.

I cannot believe that I just thought that the poor salesmen and women in North London had no good meaning to their lives and that Little Italy were overweight! What a terrible person I am. Why would I ever judge somebody so horribly? I anyone needs to be judged like that it is me. I am th one who needs to be told that I have no meaning; I am the one who needs to be told that I am overweight. What was I thinking? Three miles down.

As I finish my third mile, I am suddenly in front of my apartment building. I didn't even notice where I was running. I guess over time this path has become routine for me. It has become a time for me to reflect over what I have made of my life and how I see other people. Every morning I come to the same conclusion, but I always seem to discover new things about myself. It is so bizarre that this mornings' run idea started with me just not wanting to be a fat pig and now I am solely analyzing other citizen's lives. This morning I discovered how horribly judgmental I am and how it is I that deserves to be judged so harshly. I should keep a list of morning run discoveries. Or maybe it would be a better idea if I just came up with a new running path in the morning because I am obviously not getting a workout if I am able to discover this many things. That is what I will do; I will find a new routine. Maybe I could run through the park or something; that way, I can focus on my new trail. I cannot stay on the old one; it has given me too much time to think. I need to get ready to go on the train.

With that last thought , I walk to the side of the large, brick building that houses our loft. It is slowly disintegrating, but I guess that is all my parents believe I deserve. (my sister moved out yesterday. Thank God. The loft was cramped with her in it.) They are never home, so it is not like they have to deal with household matters on a daily basis. They have to pay for it, yes, but they don't have to live with it. I walk slowly past the trash cans that were painted blue last spring(they are now chipped and ugly) and back across the mud, grass and water. Although the sun has completely risen, it seems as if the water has not gotten the message that it is time to evaporate. So once again, as I stupidly walk across the soggy patch, it sprays the whole back of my legs with water and mud. This morning sucks.

**The story that you are reading right now is the story of Lily Evans. A girl who is trying to isolate herself form the world around her. She is like any other typical witch in the world which is what makes her story so fascinating. Lily lives in North London with her mom and dad in a loft, although they are hardly home due to business trips. Lily also does not have to live at home very often either due to the fact that she goes to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Today Lily goes back to this school on the Hogwarts Express at 11:00 sharp.**

**Lily does not really see herself in the mirror. She sees, to put it bluntly, a load of crap. Lily is actually a very pretty girl with wavy red hair ( of which she curls the ends of it every morning) that falls just past her shoulder blades and gorgeous green eyes. Lily has beautiful ivory skin that will occasionally tan. Her lips are not small, but average size. She is about 5'5 and has a slender figure that is invisible to her, but not to a passerby. **

**Lily is trying to find her way and will do it, even if it takes her an entire book to do it. **


	2. Chapter two Tell me about It

So Sorry that this has taken so long. This is not the entire chapter. I know that it is not all that great. I have been doing a lot of brainstorming on this one because it is the chapter where you are really introduced to everybody and Lily's real life and things that she has to face all the time. I want o say thank you to my reviewers. I hope that you guys keep on reading. As a side note, the rational voice at the end of each chapter is kind of likeJames thinking only he is thinking is third person. So yeah. Any who! Oh and by the way, the reason that I kept this story was because it just flowed a lot more naturally for me to write and all my friends at home like reading this one. Here it is and please review.

All By Myself

Chapter 2 Tell Me About It

I walk back up the stairs breathing heavily and wiping the slimy gook off my legs. All I succeed in doing is getting the mud on my hands and a little on my face (don't ask how I got it on my face). Why is life so harsh? I walk to my loft's door with the peeling blue paint (What is it with this building and the color blue?), and slip the key into the lock. Once I am done the door will not budge. Crap! It must be stuck. I start to bang on push on the door with all my might, but it is no use. Suddenly, the door is jerked forcefully open as I am leaning all of my weight against it. I fall through and land at the feet of my middle-aged, perverted male neighbor. Oh Shit. I have no idea what his name is, so I just stare stupidly at him for a minute.

"If there anything I can help you with my dear?" he says to my chest. Gross!

"Um. . .(what is his name!)NO! I mean, no sir. I just went to the wrong door. Sorry for disturbing you."

"That's all right sweetheart." Don't call me sweetheart you sick bastard. Eww.

With his last comment I turn around as fast as I can, but try to walk sideways at the same time. Lord knows what this man will do if he sees my elephantine butt. Who knows, it seems as if he is desperate.

As I walk into my door(the right door) I unlock it and walk slowly into the house. Once I get inside Rufus jumps all around me and basically pees with excitement as I push him down off of my leg. I walk into the kitchen and check the messages, but as usual there is nobody calling me. I have no life and no friends who want to talk to me. As I listen to the horrible sound of the answering machine saying,"You have no messages,"

After hearing that horrible sound I walk into my bathroom. While walking in I glance quickly into the mirror and then look back again. Horrendous, that's the word to describe the misfortune that is looking back at me. Due to the fact that I just finished my run my pale skin has now taken on the resemblance of a tomato with beady eyes and mounds of sweat dripping down its sides. I tear my eyes away from my reflection and begin to strip down for my morning shower. My eyes catches the mirror again and my jaw drops in horror. Since when have I become so obese! I always knew that I was not very thin, but the weight that I have gained in the past year is ridiculous!

I feel like crying just about now and feel my eyes beginning to water sadness and anger. I look away and dash into the shower doing everything that I can do to not look at the monster that some would call my body. The tears that I have been painfully holding back begin to spill over my checks and mix with the fresh water coming out of the shower head as I wash and condition my hair. The salty water is still coming from my eyes in streams as I stop my shower and walk out, while wrapping to towel around me and beginning to blow dry my hair. I think back to my neighbor and how he must be one of the stupidest people on the planet for looking at me. Maybe he has brain damage. I don't know. I hate my life.

In an attempt to divert my attention I glance at my watch. I have 45 minutes until it is time to leave my house to catch the school train. The train leaves at 11:00 sharp and although it is tempting, I don't think that it would be a good I idea to miss it.

I trip over that bathroom rug as I try to glide over to the sink, almost falling into the counter. I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth for a minute until I realize that I am still wrapped in my towel( that explains why it is so cold). Instead of doing something to help stop the cold breeze that seems to be going through me, I start to wash my face and I apply my magical cream that I got in Diagon Alley to stop acne. Then, I change into my clothes that I will be only wearing for half of the day due to the fact that I will be changing on the train into my Hogwarts uniform. I look down at my body to check and see if I look alright. As usual, I don't. Oh well, I will never look okay no matter how hard I try.

In another attempt to look better I apply some camouflage green eyeliner and some light green eyeshadow. As an ending affect I put on black mascara and a brown tinted lip gloss. "Why does nothing help my appearance?" I think as I look into the mirror. My God. I look like a bloody beast. I decide to skip breakfast this particular morning hoping that it will help me lose some weight. I probably won't knowing my body.

I begin to walk out of my apartment thinking about the hard year that is sure to be facing me. I have been made Head Girl ( A lapse in judgement to be sure.), have the NEWTS coming up, and I have to be faced with liars and people teasing me all year. I hate liars. Forcefully pulling my thoughts away form the biggest liar that I have ever met, I turn my attention to my car. It is an old yellow Cadillac that I had bought earlier this summer for cheap. I have used it constantly all summer and have actually began calling it my baby. It is like my only friend. I have to sell it though when I turn seventeen because I will have no use for it anymore, since at the age of seventeen you are allowed to take your apparting test that I will pass with a lot of luck. My birthday is on November 27th and I cannot wait for that fateful day. My birthday means hat I can leave my parents and do whatever I want. I plan on being an Auror but I highly doubt I will ever make it that far.

I open up the back door the my car and still in by big wooden trunk that I had painted emerald green. Then I push Rufus' cage into the front seat int eh car, and lastly I enter. I turn on the engine and , damn, my car sounds horrible. I hope it doesn't break down while my parents are driving it home.( They are picking up my baby when they return form their business trip.) My dad would kill me if that happened and then I would have to get a lecture about taking care of a car that I cannot keep.

Before I know it I am driving up in front of King's Cross Station. I see a number of familiar face rushing to get to the platform as I take out my trunk and Rufus and stick them on a trolley. I roll up to Platform 9 3/4 and with a deep breath, run through it. I open my yeas and am surrounded by the new, bur familiar wizarding world that I have only been able to enter once this summer when I went shopping for my books and school robes. The wizarding world is such a magical place in more than one way. I absolutely love it and completely don't deserve it.

I know that I have to go tot he Head's compartment at the beginning of the train ride to have a meeting with the prefects, so I make my way walking along side of the train until I reach the first compartment with five minutes to spare until we leave. I climb into the Hogwarts Express and into the dreaded compartment. The reason that I am dreading going to the meeting is because I have already met the Head Boy himself, James Potter who is the Biggest liar and prankster that I have ever met. He is always mocking em by asking me out on false dates and giving me fake or back-handed compliments; it is a cruel joke that id o not appreciate. I must go and face him though because the train has already taken off which means that I have already been standing out side this door for the past five minutes which, which is sad really.

I walk into the compartment with my eyes closed hoping that it will take away what is the inevitable. Then, I suddenly shriek as I feel a hand make its way to my shoulder. I refuse to open my eyes for I know who that hand belongs to.

"Hey Evans. Looking beautiful, as always."

Oh shit, he's touching me. The gorgeous, black aired boy is touching me and is most likely flinching at the same time. He is only doing this to mock me and I hate it. I push his hand away hastily and snap my eyes open.

"Don't touch me Potter," I say in a forced calm voice.

"You know you like it," he replies with his trademark smile.

Shit, I am melting under his gaze and he hasn't even done anything yet. I am truly a sucker for a cute guy. Note to self: work on that. I am pulled back into reality when I remember how he just so rudely told me I was ugly by lying and saying that I was beautiful.

"We are supposed to be calling the prefects down right now. So, if you could stop staring at me that would be much appreciated. Let's go, yeah?" I say in a hostile tone that I know will throw him off.

"Okay."

With that "okay," I march my way fully into the compartment and call for the prefects. The children who are some of the greatest minds in Hogwarts come scurrying to the compartment the moment that I call them. When everybody is there I begin the meeting, talking about some of the most boring things int eh entire planet and giving them the speech about how this is a privilege that should not be taken lightly. When I finish I send them all away so they can go and be with their friends and it is then that I realize the Potter did not say a single thing during the entire meeting. He is just looking around aimlessly obviously trying to look like he is doing something useful. It's not working. That is when I remember that he was never a prefect so he probably has no idea what he is supposed to be doing.

Damn. Now I guess that means that I have to explain everything to him and spend time with him. Spending time with him only lowers my self-esteem. I turn to him unwillingly and find that he is now staring at me. I hate it when people stare at me because it makes me feel uglier and fatter than usual.

"Stop looking at me."

"What if I like looking at you?"

"No you don't you stupid, insolent asshole."

"That wasn't a nice thing to say. I haven't even done anything yet."

"Whoever said I was nice?"

"I did."

"Whatever. Do you want me to tell you what your job is or not?"

"I already know what I am supposed to do," he says with a smile reappearing on his face.

"How?"

"I just do"

I look at him suspiciously. How does he know what to do? Oh yeah! Maybe it was because Remus is a prefect and they are best friends and all.

"Why didn't you say anything during the meeting then?"

"I like watching you talk and hold the attention of a room."

"You're sick. I hate you,"I say with anger dripping in every syllable I say.

He looks taken aback. "What have I done?"

"Like you don't know!"

With that last statement I leave the room so he doesn't see the tears that I am trying to cover with anger. Why do I always become so emotional when I know that he is lying to me? I hate him! HATE HIM! HATE HIM!

I stand in the hall of the trolley pushing down a sob and then decide to keep on walking.

"Lily! Oh my God! I missed you! Oh. What's wrong hun? Why are you crying?"

It was Amber. One of what I guess I could call "my friends." It is a funny prospect really that I could have friends but feel so alone even though I am surrounded by many people. I started to cry harder when I thought of this . Amber pulled me into her arms and gave me a huge hug while I cried on her shoulder until I was able to pull myself together.

I pulled back and looked at the seventeen year old in front of me. There was no other way to describe Amber, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Amber has dirty blonde hair that is curly and topaz colored eyes(brown topaz) that flashed different colors depending on her mood. She is about 5'7 and very slender, but muscular if that makes sense. Totally unlike me who is not curvy, but fat and short. I secretly envy her, but don't tell any body that.

To add onto her perfect figure, she always has a nice and hot boyfriend at her side. Once again, unlike me, who is a spinster.

"What made you cry Lily? Whoever it was I'll go and beat them up if you like. Tell em who it was."

"I didn't do anything but tell the truth," says Potter's voice behind my back.

I don't turn around, but am saved from replying when Amber begins to interrogate him.. While she is doing that, I stealthily sneak into an empty compartment. Today has already sucked.

**Lily is beautiful and kind, but for some odd reason she does not believe any body who tells her this. She thinks that others are lying to her or mocking her when that compliment her. James Potter in particular. Although James Potter has been known to be arrogant, he has never been anything but nice to Lily and that is the precise reason why she hates him.**


End file.
